


Detective Work

by Lilsi



Category: The Bill
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsi/pseuds/Lilsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a new police officer at Sunhill and there is something familiar about him that Craig can't quite put his finger on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detective Work

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was once posted at Craiggilmore.co.uk a fan site no longer active, so to preserve this story and others, I am importing them to AO3. I did not want the loss of such a large amount of amazing and wonderful fanfiction, it would be such a waste to fans of Craig Gilmore and Luke Ashton to not have the opportunity to enjoy these stories as i have. Since the site is no longer active i have been unable to contact the creators but if you happen to be them under a new pen name and want the fiction to be removed please send me a note!
> 
> Story written by - Alex
> 
> Part of the CraigGilmore's Mother's Day Marathon Challenge.

"

"

"Sergeant Gilmore!  Could I ask you to do me a favour?"

 

Craig pauses on his way back to his office, gingerly gripping a cup of tea in one hand as the crime statistics continue to do the mental equivalent of actual bodily harm on his brain cells, and waits for Inspector Monroe's recently arrived replacement to catch up with him.

 

"Ma'am?"  
  


 "Tony Stamp was due to be going on patrol today with this new PC we've got starting..."

 

Craig passes the hand that isn't holding the plastic cup across his forehead.  "Yes ma'am, I know.  I arranged it."

 

"Problem _is_ I've just heard Tony, like an idiot, has managed to break his ankle dashing down a flight of stairs..."

 

"So you'll want me to arrange someone else then?  It's a bit short notice."  
  


 "Actually Craig; as you already know his circumstances I thought _you_ could do it yourself."

 

"Me, ma'am?  But -"

 

"Yes, Craig; _you._ That young man had only been out of training for ten weeks when he was injured in the course of duty, then he spent all that time in hospital before he got shipped down here to his parents to recuperate.  He's been on sick leave ever since.  I think he deserves the best start we can give him now he's back on duty don't you?."

 

Well if she's going to put it like that. "Yes ma'am."

 

***

 

The Sergeant has his arms crossed against his chest.

 

"Not the most auspicious start to your first day at a new station is it, Constable?"

 

"No, Sergeant."  PC Okaro stares steadily at the dirty puddle spreading slowly across from his feet towards a highly polished pair of size 11 boots.

 

"Couldn't you at least have made some effort to get cleaned up before reporting to me?" demands the large Welshman.

  
"Sorry, Sergeant.  I was late already and -"  The young Constable stutters to a halt when he sees the exasperated expression on his new Sergeant's face and rubs one toe nervously up the back of a sodden trouser leg.

 

" _Late already_ won't cut it with me, I'm afraid."  The Sergeant breaks off.  "Constable!  If you could do me the honour of standing still and looking at me when I am talking to you?" he barks.

 

The young man responds by squelching very soggily to attention.  "Sorry, Sergeant."

 

"Go and get cleaned up.  I expect you back here in 15 minutes."  Craig glances back down at the files that he had been working on when Okaro had arrived.

 

"Sergeant?"

 

"Problem?"  A pair of eyes almost as dark as the young man's own stare back at him.

 

"No, Sergeant."  The Constable gulps nervously, blushing under the intense scrutiny not that the Sergeant could notice.  "I mean, erm, yes sergeant."

 

"Well, Constable?"

 

"Where are the showers?"

 

***

 

"Such a nice young man", the little old lady standing at the desk is saying to Robbie Cryer as Craig walks into the front office, accompanied by the now squeakily clean young Constable.  "He waded right out into that filthy water to fish my little dog out, he did.  Wouldn't even stop to dry off a bit; said he was late for work."

  
"That was kind" says Robbie smiling.

 

"Yes," says the woman brightly, "so I thought I'd come here and make sure he wasn't in any trouble.  I'd have been here sooner but I had to take poor Bernie home."

 

"I'm sorry, love" says Robbie patiently, "but I'm not sure how we can help you..."

 

"Well, he said he was start-" She breaks off, pointing over Robbie's shoulder.  "That's him now!"

 

Craig looks up as the Constable steps forwards to the counter.

 

"Hello Gladys" Okaro says smiling at her warmly, "did you manage to get Bernie home safely?"

 

"Yes, thank you!" she replies brightly.

 

"Good, good."  He can feel his Sergeant's eyes boring into the back of his neck.  "Listen my love, I have to get off now," he says politely.  "You just make sure you keep that Bernie on a lead near that pond in future, won't you."

 

"Such a _nice_ young man," sighs Gladys, watching him stride from the room.

 

***

 

At refs, Craig queues up for a halfway decent cup of tea.  He is listening attentively, whilst carefully appearing not to, as the rest of the relief grill the newest member of the team.

 

"Were you in Manchester long?" asks Gary, sliding onto the chair beside him.

 

"So," Des cuts in with his usual tact and diplomacy before the young man has a chance to reply, "how comes you've got Sergeant Gilmore holding your 'and then, hey _Malcolm_?"

 

"You do _know_ it was meant to be Tony, dontcha?" Nick says to Des.  "And that the stupid git's gone and broken his ankle?"

 

"So why hasn't one of us been asked to do it, eh?" Des looks round the table accusingly.

 

"You volunteering then Des, are yer?" Cass snorts, plunging a chip into the puddle of ketchup on the side of her plate.

 

"As if!  But why a sergeant, eh? In fact _why_ d'you need anyone at all?"

 

"It may have something to do with me being injured, I suppose," replies the youngster, taking a swig from his can of fizzy pop. "But I can't see how."

 

"Fall over an old granny when you were plodding down the street, did yer?" asks Des.

 

"Something like that..."

 

"I think you'll find, Des," says Craig, looming into view over Cass's shoulder, "that Constable Okaro is far too modest to tell you that he was pushed from a roof while in pursuit of a suspect armed with a knife."

 

He continues slowly on his way to the other side of the canteen.

 

"A roof?" queries Cass swallowing a hot chip far too rapidly.

 

"I didn't fall far, only about twenty feet," grins Malcolm, "landed on my back - did a bit of damage - spent time in hospital, got better - got posted down here instead."

 

Craig smiles at the way the youngster manages to explain six months out of action in less than six seconds.

 

"Okaro?" remarks Reg, who's been sitting silently beside Des all the while. "Isn't there a Su-"

 

"Yes," interrupts the new constable quickly, "he's my father.  But don't hold it against me."

 

"We won't."  Reg turns to Des and looks at him meaningfully.  "Will we, Des?" he says pointedly, pursing his lips together.

 

Des isn't actually sure what they are on about, but won't admit it.  " _I_ won't _,_ but _you'll_ need to be careful Gilmore doesn't," he says deliberately.

 

PC Okaro isn't sure he's keeping up with the conversation.  "I'm sorry?"

 

"Gilmore," hisses Gary helpfully, "he's a poo-"

 

"Sergeant Gilmore's gay, is what Des and Gary are trying to tell you," says Nick quietly.  "He's all right though, a good copper you know?  Always plays strai-" he corrects himself, "fair with us."

 

***

 

Craig pulls the patrol car he is driving to an abrupt halt as a middle-aged man comes dashing across the pavement towards them, waving his arms.  Behind him a cluster of people are staring at a rapidly retreating hooded figure wearing scruffy jeans and carrying a large, lady's handbag.  Constable Okaro is out of the vehicle almost before it is stationary, starts running as soon as his feet hit the ground and has the teenage bag-snatcher well and truly 'nicked' by the time Craig, slightly out of breath, has caught up with them 150 yards down the street.

 

"Come on you, get moving." Craig overhears him say as the youth struggles in his grasp.  "I haven't got all day, chop, chop."

 

***

 

It's the end of the shift.  Craig wanders out of his office, on time for once, and smiles as he shuts the door firmly behind him.  He's quite looking forward to the next few days if they are all going to be easy like today.

 

Gina Gold is on the phone, but seeing him in the corridor she breaks off her discussion by clapping her hand over the mouthpiece.

 

"Craig!  If I could have a moment please?"

 

He groans quietly to himself, managing to keep his smile in place from years of practice.  Although he and the Inspector have established a fairly good working relationship in the few weeks since she arrived, he really can't countenance her use of her office as an unofficial annex to the local pub.  He hesitates on the threshold when the smell of nicotine reaches his sinuses, but she beckons to him to enter, then motions at him to sit down. 

 

He sits quietly examining his knees as he waits for her to finish.

 

"Ma'am?"

 

"The new lad Okaro?  How's he settling in?"

 

"He's likeable enough.  Seems keen, the public like him, and just as importantly he got on okay with the relief."

 

"Good, good," says Gina.

 

"There's something about him, though.  I can't quite put my finger on."

 

"Something?" She pauses with her hand halfway to her top drawer.  "Something I should worry about?"  She's grasping a bottle of single malt scotch when it rises above the horizon of her desk again.

 

"I don't think so..." says her sergeant slowly, as a thought creeps into his brain and settles down comfortably.

 

"No?  Run along then, chop chop.  I want to light up and have a drink, and I won't enjoy either if you're just going to stand there looking at me."

 

Craig stares.

 

"What?" she demands.

 

He grins.

 

"Know Constable Okaro well do you?"

 

She bends her head back to her drawer.  "I can't think what you're talking about Craig."

 

"All day I've spent with him.  ALL DAY.  I knew there was something!" he exclaims, clicking his fingers.

 

"Don't you dare say a word!  Not to anyone!" she warns, stabbing a finger at him over the tops of the two identical glasses that have appeared on her desk.  "Drink?"

 

"Are you going to tell me?" he asks, settling himself down in front of her, reaching out to accept the large measure she's poured for him.  "Or will I have to drink you under the table first?"

 

There is the briefest tap on the door as it swings open.

 

"Mu-,  Ma'am!" Constable Okaro corrects himself instantly when he finds Craig sitting in the office.  "You wanted to see me ma'am?"

 

Gina grins wickedly.

 

Craig scrapes his chair back.

 

"I'm sure your mother will see you back at home very shortly Malcolm, but right now she's got a lot of explaining to do," he says, shepherding the young man back out of the room.


End file.
